


Welcome Back And All That Rubbish

by Merrov



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post - Order of the Phoenix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-16
Updated: 2010-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-11 21:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merrov/pseuds/Merrov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to come back. Nothing's ever quite the way you left it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Back And All That Rubbish

**Author's Note:**

> Reply to the 2004 SBRL FQF challenge: Bring Back Black. Me subject was: Sirius comes back, as a squib.

_My eyes snapped open. At least, it felt like they did. There was nothing to see though. Just blackness. That wasn't the part that worried me. I wasn't even worried that I couldn't remember where I was. What worried me, was that for a moment, just a moment, I could not remember for the life of me who I was._

But it came to me. Sirius Orion Black. Wizard. Auror. Convict. Godfather. Werewolf's mate. Ok. I knew who I was. It still struck me as odd that I had had to think about it. That was knowledge I should have just known. It confused me, and in my time honored tradition, if it confused me, I decided I'd ask Remus about it later.

Now, where was I? Yet another important question that had to be answered. Well, from the look of things... Someplace dark. Very dark. As in no light what-so-ever dark. Or was it? I'd have sworn there was a glow. I looked at my hands. Or at least, I would have, if I could have seen my hands. So no light was hitting my hands and bouncing off into my eyes. Fine. That meant it was dark. But what was with the glow then? It's like the air was alive. Or thrumming, but there wasn't any sound.

No sound. That was another thing. I could hear absolutely nothing. It was like I'd been struck deaf. It hadn't worried me though, until I realized that the silence went even as far as to mean I couldn't hear myself breath—Or feel it for that matter—or hear the noise of my hands clapping. Come to think of it, I couldn't feel that happening, either. What in Merlin's name was going on?

I frantically tried to assure myself that I was indeed there. But how do you do that when you can't feel yourself, hear yourself, or see yourself? Panic was one word, though a bit of an understatement, for what I was feeling right about then. I was so busy panicking, trying to figure out what was wrong with me, that I didn't even notice that there was light until someone said so.

"No matter how many times you look, you will always come up with the same results." The voice said. I turned. Or at least, I thought I did. It was really creepy, this not being able to see/feel anything. The presence of the voice behind me at least had assured me that I could hear. But if I could hear, where was my heartbeat or breathing? The panic was still a fluttering thing in my stomach. I looked for the source of the voice, but couldn't see anything.

"Who's there?" I asked, my voice quivering slightly. It was that fluttering thing trying to escape out my mouth. It was lodged in my throat now, making it hard to talk.

"I Am." The voice replied. I turned again, looking for the voice.

"Where?" I was getting worried about my vision again. That voice could only distract me for so long.

"Why don't you look? There is light, you know."

All of a sudden, I became aware of the fact that yes, there indeed was light. It startled me. As much as I hate to admit it, it scared me. It wasn't that the light had just come on when the voice had said that there was light. It was that it had been there all along, and I hadn't been conscious of it.

The voice laughed. It was strange, because it—he—sounded like me. Only not. He sounded like James, Peter and Remus. He sounded like Harry, Fred and George Weasley, even Professor Dumbledore. I shook my head—where was the hair that should have flipped into my eyes?—and looked around again.

"I'm right in front of you." The voice said, and then, he was. I became aware of the fact that he had been there all along, like the light. He looked like me. Only... well, not. I could see me in him. At the same time, he looked like James, and Peter and Remus. He looked like everybody he sounded like, and at the same time, exactly like me. He stood there, arms at his sides, smirking. "Hi."

"Umm..." I couldn't think of anything to say. I was terrified. I was used to being confused- though I hardly ever showed my confusion in public- but all this... it was just too much.

The man laughed. "Why don't you sit down?" He pointed to a chair to my left. Again, I had the feeling that it had always been there. It was dark red leather. Like any that one would find in the Gryffindor common room. Hesitantly, I sat. No feeling, still. The only way I knew I was sitting, was that my perspective of the man and the chair changed.

"Now, I'm sure you have many questions." The man said, an amused smile on his face. He looked like any one of the Marauders did when they'd just pulled off a particularly good prank.

"Well..." What should I ask first? "What's wrong with me?" Ok, that was vague.

The man seemed to understand what I meant though. He laughed. "It's all typical side effects of being dead."

Oh.

Wait...

DEAD?

I must have looked as shocked as I felt. The man flopped down in another chair that must have been behind him the whole time. He flopped in chairs like I do. And yet, it was the strangest thing, because at the same time, he didn't flop. He sat. Like Remus, or Dumbledore.

"Yes, Sirius. You're dead. You were struck by a spell in battle, and you fell back through the Veil." The man seemed sad, yet at the same time, excited. It was like everything about him changed depending on how you looked at him. It was the most unnerving thing I'd ever experienced.

"So... I, um... I died?" It was quite a concept to wrap my mind around. I felt alive! Wait... no, scratch that. I didn't feel anything, but my brain felt alive. Am I making sense? Probably not. So this not feeling anything was what it felt like to be dead? Wait... now I'm just confusing myself.

"You must have other questions." The man stated. His gaze was still sad/excited, though now there was a trace of sympathy there too. As I was starting to expect, I saw it's opposite in his face as well. He was laughing at me. He liked my confusion. He was my enemy. Who the hell was this guy?

"Who are you?" I asked. He grinned at that. It was a pure grin. All... what? Parts? Voices? Inside him were amused. There was that prank smirk again.

"I am Me."

What kind of freak answer was that? I stared at him, hoping my blank expression might prompt him to further explain. He just stood there, smiling.

"That tells me nothing." I glared at him. He laughed, the prat.

"I am you. I am Voldemort. I am Remus J. Lupin. I am James Potter, Peter Pettigrew. Lily Evans. The Weasleys. Albus Dumbledore. Your brother. Your parents. Your relatives. I am everyone you've ever known. At the same time, I am Myself. If you can figure that one out, you'll be the first mortal to do so." He smiled again. Gods, this guy is cheerful.

"So... that's why you look... ummm..." I guess I pointed vaguely at his face. He nodded. "Oookayyy..." Think, Sirius, think. What is going on here? Why is he talking to you? There's a good question...

"So, why are you talking to me?" I asked.

"I was wondering when you'd get to that one," the man replied, apparently engrossed in his fingernails. He looked up, for the first time right into my eyes, and I suddenly felt something like a small bolt of electricity (is that how the muggles say it?) shoot from my eyeballs down to my toes. I still didn't feel anything else. Just that bolt of electricity. So what did that make me? A head on a bolt of lightning? I stopped thinking about it and concentrated on the man in front of me.

"It was not your time to die, Sirius Orion Black. You still have work to do. You have to go back."

Well, that was blunt. "Well, that's a relief, because this being dead is really creeping me out..." I thought for a moment. "Er, how exactly am I supposed to go back?"

The man looked surprised. "Why, I send you back, of course. It is your job to climb back through the Veil, but other than that, I do everything. There is just one condition."

Ah-hah! Of course there were strings attached. "What?"

"You will not have any magic."

If I hadn't already been dead, that sentence would have killed me. I stared at him with pure and total shock. "W—what? No magic? I have to go back and protect Harry, as a Squib?" I shook my head. "Nuh-uh. Ain't happening. It can't."

He raised his eyebrows. That was a Lucius Malfoy look, the sod. "Can't it?"

I stood up. "No! I can't go back as a Squib! There has to be another way!" I walked toward him, hands clenched into fists.

He sat calmly, a slight smile on his lips and his eyebrows still raised. "Ahh, the famous Black temper. Tell me, Sirius, what you intend to do? That is the condition laid down. You really have no choice. You will go back. You will have no magic. In fact, you're out of time. Here is the Veil. It is your job to get through it. If you hurry, you will find your Remus on the other side."

Remus? "What's Remus doing there?" I relaxed my fists. The light had changed. It was dimmer. More lit by torches than some ethereal source.

The man's face was that mixture of sadness and malice again. "He mourns. His mate is lost. What would you be doing in his situation, Sirius?"

Moon-Pup...

The two of us were silent for a moment, staring at each other. He turned and started walking away. As he disappeared, he called over his shoulder, "If you listen closely, you can hear him. But don't call out to him, Sirius Black. For if he touches the Veil, he will be as dead as you are at this very moment." With that last warning, he vanished.

Get through the Veil. I had to go back to the land of the living. I got to go back to Remus. Harry. I took a step toward the Veil. Wait. I'd be a Squib. I stopped moving. Think about it for a moment. I've had magic my whole life. It has been a part of my very being forever. My wand has been an extension of my arm since I was eleven. How could I survive without that part of me? I took my step back. Back to where I started. Great. Try again?

Back to the world I love. Back to Hogwarts, Dumbledore. He'd know a way around this whole 'Squib' complication. I stepped forward. One step. Two steps. Snape is there. Back to the war. Voldemort is alive again. I'd no longer have any magic to defend myself with. What will I do? I can't bloody well teach at Hogwarts without magic, and it would be laughable to even think of rejoining the Aurors. I stepped back once. Coward.

Suddenly, I had a thought as I studied the Veil in front of me. Maybe this is what He meant when he said it was up to me to get through the Veil by myself. I have to want to go back. Well, I did. Remus is there. I could hear him, if I listened hard enough. I could hear him calling my name. His Siri-love. His Padfoot. I charged toward the Veil. Before I could reach it though, I stopped. 'No magic. No magic. No magic,' was marching around inside my head. I would be nothing but a burden if I went back.

This was more thinking than I'd done in a while. I sat down to try to empty my head. It was hard, between hearing Moony calling me and the 'No magic' mantra in my head. I couldn't concentrate.

"Go for it, Padfoot. They need you."

That was James' voice. I looked around.

"Really Sirius, being a Squib wouldn't be that bad."

Lily! I stood up. Where were they? "I can't see you guys." I called. I heard Lily laugh.

"This close to the gate between the mortal and immortal world, we have no visible bodies. The same goes with you at the moment, Sirius. Only after you pass through the Veil will you completely regain your senses." Trust Lily to give you a straight answer.

"Pads, they're gonna need you out there, bad. Even if we don't count Harry and the rest of the world, your own little world needs you. What's Remus gonna do? Drink that vile potion of Snape's and lay whimpering every moon because Moony misses you?" James... how many times I had wished to hear that voice.

"James..." I couldn't help looking around for them. Suddenly, there was a slight pressure on my shoulder. Ghostly. Or nearly so.

"I'm right here, Sirius. I always am." I brought my hand up to touch where James' hand was on my shoulder. I could feel his hand. I knew I was crying. Dimly, my brain registered that I was feeling more. I was getting sensory input from my body.

"You need to go, Sirius." Lily spoke. Her hand touched my face. "We are always there for you and Remus. We want you both to know that. And all you've done for Harry... Sirius, you're a better godfather to him then we could ever have hoped for."

"Go, mate. They need you out there." James gave me a light push toward the Veil.

"How do I get through?" I asked. "Every time I get close to it, I have second thoughts."

"Just run. You have to be stronger then your thoughts. You have to be faster than the Veil. You can do it Sirius. You are the most thickheaded person I've ever known." James chuckled when he said that. Frankly, I had to agree with him, though his own son could be rather thickheaded himself.

"Okay... Let's do this, eh?" My voice was shaking. Lily's hand left my cheek.

"You'll do fine, Sirius." She reassured me. James voiced his agreement, then pushed me again. I ran.

I was right in front of the Veil when the doubt poured in. I didn't stop. I couldn't listen to the 'No magic' mantra in my head. I had to go. I jumped. I dove forward, through the Veil, and I felt it try to hold on to me. What felt like cold iron fingers covered in cloth grabbed at my robes, at my arms and legs. For one shining moment, I didn't think I'd make it, that the Veil would suck me back in. Then, a stone floor was rushing up to meet me.

"Whoa!" I threw out my hands to catch myself. My hands slapped the cold stone floor, taking the shock. Then the rest of me crashed down, but I managed not to hit my head. My knees would be bruised though. My hands stung from hitting the stones. Hardly three seconds into my next chance at life, and I was injured. Go figure. I sat up.

At least my senses seemed to be back to normal. I could see fine, smell, hear, feel—

Something shouted and smashed into me, knocking me to the floor again. I couldn't catch myself this time, because my hands were pinned to my sides by the person clinging to me.

"Sirius, Sirius, Sirius..." he was whispering over and over. He smelled of the forest. The hair that was in my face was gold in the light of the torches, and shot through with silver. His hair smelled of vanilla and the forest; the wolf.

"Remus," I managed to free my hands enough to hug him back. He still clung to me, whispering my name over and over. There was a wetness on my neck and shoulder. He was crying. "Moon-pup," I tried again to talk to him. "Moony-love, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here." I lay there on the freezing stones and held the shivering, sobbing werewolf.

Why did this always have to happen to Remus? It had always been him who'd gotten the worst out of the deal we call life. First, he was infected when he was six. His brother died trying to save him, and his mother died two years later. He and his father drifted around France, trying to find someplace safe for Remus, and a good job for his father, Pierre. When Remus turned ten, Pierre took him to see the headmistress of Beaubaxtons. She turned them away, telling them she would not allow a werewolf in her school.

It seemed one of a very few strokes of good luck that Dumbledore heard of Remus' problem. He offered to let Remus into Hogwarts, so Remus, who knew only French, and his father, who had very limited English, moved to London. Remus Lupin was terrified when his father dropped him off at platform 9 ¾ that first day of September. We- that is to say, James and I- met him early in the journey to Hogwarts. His accent was very thick, and he didn't know that much English. He had two books open when we invaded his compartment. The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One, and a French-English phrasebook.

After we were out of Hogwarts, James and I ended up going to the Auror Academy, which meant I didn't see Remus too often. He almost didn't get into University because of his 'condition.' Then, of course there was the whole Voldemort's spy thing. I shook my head. I was with him now. It had cost me my magic, but I was here for him now, and I never planned on leaving him again.

Now if only I could calm him down... "Remmie, Remus, look at me." I got one hand under his chin and coaxed him to look up at me. His beautiful honey eyes were full of tears. He searched my face, making sure I was real. "It's okay now. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." He still had fistfuls of my robe, and his grip was so tight his knuckles were white.

"Sirius... how?" he choked. I smiled at him. Kissed him, lightly. He closed his eyes and leaned into me, pressing his mouth to mine. He pulled back first, and when he opened his eyes, they were clearer.

"It wasn't my time, according to the guy I met. They sent me back." No need to burden him with the details now. I shivered.

Remus noticed it and laughed. "Let's go home, Sirius. Even better, let's go to Hogwarts. I'm sure Albus would love to know you're alive. Harry too."

He helped me stand, but he didn't let go of my robes until he had a very good grip on my hand. That was the wolf in him. Clingy. As if he was afraid I'd vanish if he let go. I laced my fingers through his.

One of the main goals the Marauders had had while at Hogwarts was to do something so unexpected that even Professor Dumbledore would be surprised. It never happened while we were in school, and I don't count the willow incident. Oh, if only James could have seen the look on Dumbledore's face when Remus and I walked into his office. Come to think of it, ol' Prongsie probably could see him. Total shock. The look was priceless. I couldn't help laughing as he gaped at me. It didn't take him long to get himself back under control, but while it lasted...

"Sirius," the headmaster had to clear his throat before he could speak my name. I smiled at him. "It's wonderful to see you. I must ask, how did you come back?"

Yeah, that's where my story got unbelievable. How do I tell them what happened? I'm not even sure I really knew. Remus was looking at me, obviously just as curious as Albus. I sighed.

"Yeah... erm, well, lets just say, I met this really strange guy, and he told me it wasn't my time to die and I had to go back. I said, oh, good, and asked how I was supposed to get back. He told me I had to get through the Veil." That was pretty much it, I guess. My hands were shoved into the pockets of my robe. I shrugged. "That's really about it. I guess he's the one who got the Veil to let me go."

Dumbledore accepted it. He turned back to his desk and pulled out one of the drawers. "Well, it's fantastic to have you back with us. You really must go and see Harry as soon as you can, though I advise discretion in the hallways. There are only a couple more weeks of school, and the last thing we need is Voldemort knowing you're back before we absolutely cannot hide it any longer. You'll be a great asset for the war."

Yeah, about that... The Headmaster pulled a wand- my wand- out of his drawer. Smiling, he handed it to me. I stared at the smooth dark wood as it sat in my hand. I felt no tug. No whisper of possibilities. It was nothing more than a stick with a nifty filling. Werewolf fur, of all things. Imagine that.

It suddenly really hit me that I would be doing no more magic. Ever. I closed my hand over my wand. This wand would never mean anything for me except memories now. A past life. Welcome to the future and all that rubbish.

"Something wrong, Sirius?" Albus' voice surprised me, I was caught up in my thoughts and nearly forgot they were there.

"I, uh... I don't think I'll be much use against Voldemort." No! Stop! What is my voice doing? Why the bloody hell did I say that?

Albus and Remus both looked at me strangely. "What do you mean, Padfoot?" Remus asked.

I sighed. I opened my mouth to say, 'nothin,' but what came out was, "the only condition of my coming back to life was that I would be a Squib." Why couldn't I just shut up about the whole thing?

Remus looked shocked. Dumbledore, however, seemed to understand. Damn. I wished I could have shocked him twice. The wand in my hand was no longer cool. My body heat had warmed it where I touched it. I looked down at it again. Saw with a pang the small notches cut into the hand grip. That had been from my Auror days. A notch for every Death Eater. Dark days they may have been, but they held their share of good memories.

I looked up into Remus' eyes, and didn't like what I saw there. Pity. I didn't want pity. It was my choice to come back, damnit. I knew he was going to speak, but I turned toward the door before Remus could open his mouth. "I'm going to go see Harry." I didn't wait for a response from either of them. I walked out. A small part of me knew I was running, but what the hell. My wand was still in my hand. I shoved it in my pocket as I trotted down the spiral steps.

I managed not to be seen on my trip to the Fat Lady. It was only when I got there that I realized I didn't know the password. There was no way she was going to let me in without it. I felt like I was in school again. Only this time, I couldn't pound on the frame of the painting and yell for Prongs or Wormtail or Moony.

"Bugger," I mumbled, leaning my forehead against the cool stone wall beside the Fat Lady. She clucked at me for using such language.

"You've had a rough time of it, haven't you, Mr. Black?" she asked.

"Mmm." Was my only response. She didn't speak to me again.

I wasn't there very long when I heard the sound of laughter and footsteps on the stairs. Quickly, I ducked into a small alcove behind a dusty statue of a haggard looking witch. Three Gryffindor second years came around the corner, a fourth smaller second year in tow. They stopped their excited conversation about the upcoming holiday just long enough to say 'boysenberries' to the Fat Lady, and then continued their conversation as she swung open. I came out from behind the statue, grinning.

"Boysenberries." I told her, she smiled at me and opened. I slipped through the door and stayed in the shadows against the wall. My eyes scanned the common room for Harry, but I couldn't find him. Or Hermione and Ron, either. There weren't many kids in the common room, and most of them were engaged in some sort of activity. I slipped past them all and ran lightly up the stairs to the fifth year boy's dormitory.

The door was firmly shut, but not locked. I could hear voices through the thick door. Harry and Ron were there. It sounded like maybe Seamus was too. I remembered his voice from the day I'd watched Harry's Quidditch game during their third year. A clear female voice rang out indignantly, and I knew it was Hermione. I opened the door to find them laughing. The laughter died when they all looked up to see who had come in.

Dean Thomas was there too, reading. Ron and Hermione sat on Harry's bed, and had obviously been trying to cheer him up. Seamus was standing by the window. Now, all five of them stared at me. Shock, again.

"Sirius?" it was Hermione who spoke. I smiled at her and nodded.

"You're dead!" Ron's eyes were huge, and his eyebrows had all but disappeared into his flaming red hair. Harry was off the bed and running toward me. He stopped just in front of me and stared.

"Hey, Harry." I was still smiling, and I reached out a hand for his head, to rough up his hair. He collapsed into me, arms around my stomach, head in my chest. I hugged him back, and felt him shaking. He was crying. I held him for a while, until he quieted. He finally just stood there, ear pressed against my heart, listening to my heart beat, reassuring himself that I was indeed alive.

"How?" Hermione asked. She was off the bed as well, just standing, giving Harry space.

"Wasn't my time. I got back through the Veil." I wasn't going to tell them about me being a Squib. They'd find out soon enough.

For the first time, I noticed that Seamus and Dean didn't seem as comfortable in my presence. They stared at me with wide eyes, but it wasn't the same as Ron's shock. Fear. They were scared of me.

"You two okay?" I asked. They just stared.

Hermione turned to them, a smile on her face. "You guys, he didn't betray the Potters or kill Peter Pettigrew. He certainly didn't join Voldemort. Peter was the one who betrayed them all. He set Sirius up."

Oh. That's what it was all about. I'd nearly forgotten that I was still a wanted man, even after all this. The whole world is utterly crazy, I swear.

"That's who Scabbers was." Ron spoke. "You know, my old rat? Peter was an animagi, and he'd been hiding as a pet rat for all that time." He still looked a bit dazed by my sudden appearance, but the shock had worn off. Harry coughed and let go of me. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then smiled up at me.

"It's brilliant to have you back, Sirius," he said. I ruffled his hair, the same way I used to ruff up James' hair. It stuck up worse in all directions. He laughed.

"It's brilliant to be back, lemme tell ya." I smiled at them all. Seamus and Dean still didn't seem comfortable, but I figured they'd have to talk to Dumbledore and get used to the whole idea. That could have been bad. My jaunt through the castle, I mean. If any of the students had seen me, they could warn the Ministry that I was alive. That would be very bad indeed.

Peter... "So, he's still at large, then?" I asked. Hermione nodded.

"There have been reports of sightings, but I don't think the Ministry wants to believe." Hermione said. I shook my head. Typical. I'm a good target, and they were already wrong about the whole Voldemort coming back from the dead thing, they don't want to be proven wrong again. It was just as well I was a Squib now.

"Seamus, Dean? You two gonna be ok?" Ron asked the two boys. Seamus looked up at him.

"Uh, sure... I'm gonna go... now..." he inched toward the door, keeping as close to the wall as he could while he went around me. Dean followed him.

"Talk to Dumbledore, you two. Get it all straightened out." I advised them, moving farther into the room.

"Please don't tell anybody." Hermione said. Dean nodded and the two practically fled the room.

"Well, that went much better than it could have." Ron smiled.

"So, now what?" Harry asked. "What are you going to do?"

"I bet you're staying with Remus here until the year's done, eh?" Ron asked.

I gave him a questioning look. "Remus has rooms here? He wasn't teaching..."

"Oh. Dumbledore had him come here after... well, you know... anyway, he's staying in the same room he was in when he taught here." Hermione spoke up. "Professor Lupin wasn't doing too well after... that."

I sighed. "Yeah... I'll be staying with him." I remembered that they didn't know about Moony and I. I guess that's why it surprised me when Ron gave me an understanding look.

"He's really happy to have you back, isn't he?" Ron asked. I nodded, still wondering if he really knew, or just suspected. But why would he even suspect? They'd never really seen Remus and I alone together. We didn't spend all our waking moments openly oogling each other. We did, but we were just very sneaky about it. It wasn't so much that it was a secret that we were an item, but we didn't flaunt it. It was normal. So how did Ron know? Did Remus and I give off the same kind of 'togetherness' vibes that his brother Percy and Oliver Wood did? I tried to look a question at him, but he just shook his head.

Hermione caught the exchange. "What?" she asked, looking from me to Ron.

I laughed. "Nothing. Ron's being Ron is all. I should probably head back. You have dinner soon, right?"

"Yeah." Harry answered. "When will we see you again?"

"You can come and see me in Remus' quarters. I suspect they wont want me out roaming until I'm proven innocent. Just be careful. Use the Map and the invisibility cloak." I told them. Harry nodded. They knew. I knew they knew. "Ok, I'll see you guys later." I grinned at them one last time and left. Once I was out of the dorm room itself, I didn't head down toward the common room and the Fat Lady. I headed up. There was a passageway out of the seventh year dormitory. It led to the Head Boy's quarters. The Marauders had used it quite a bit to go and plot with Prongs.

I got to the door and listened. I didn't hear anybody inside. I decided to hide in the shadows until dinner though, just in case. I melted into the deep shadows in the corner to wait. It occurred to me that it would be easier to hide as Padfoot, since he was completely black—Padfoot... would I be able to transform? That was magic. Sure, it was wandless magic, but it was still magic. It still required that force of will. I was afraid to try. Out of everything in the magical world, I think the loss of Padfoot would hurt me the most. I didn't want to know if I had lost him.

I sank to the floor and huddled up, waiting for the dinner gong, trying to push the worry out of my head. Finally, the gong sounded, and sure enough, two seventh year boys left the dorm. After they disappeared down the stairs, I came out and entered their room—my old room. All the beds were in the same place. I stood in the middle of the room and just stared around. The bed closest to the door had been Peter's. James, when he stayed with us, had the one opposite him. Remus' had been beside James's, and I'd been by the windows. I noticed with some amusement that the window I'd broken out in the spring had been replaced. I'd known it would be, winters were cold. I'd broken it because I'd needed fresh air. I was sick of being cooped up in the castle all winter, and I wanted to sleep with the wind coming in.

The rain had come in as well, and I'd ended up having to bunk with Remus for the rest of the year, because my bed had never really dried out. Peter had found that extremely funny, though Remus and I hadn't cared all that much.

I came out of the memories to find myself standing by my bed. Well, what had been my bed at least. There was no Quidditch robe flopped over the headboard now. No open trunk covered with stickers and S.O.B. drawn on the side in muggle white out. No beater stick sticking out of the trunk. No broom sticking out from under the bed, waiting to trip someone.

The person who had this bed now was not a Quidditch player. The trunk at the end of the bed was closed, and L.J. was engraved on the side. Lee Jordan. I'd met him once. He was a good friend of the Weasley twins. Prankster. At least we had that in common.

I looked over at Remus' bed. No longer was it covered in spell books and rolls of homework. Nothing about the bed said 'Remus' anymore. It was the one that looked like it had belonged to a Quidditch player. The bed was unmade. Everything from school books to Quidditch robes, even a beater stick, was shoved into the trunk at the end of the bed. G.W. George Weasley. He and Fred had left earlier in the year, and it looked like they'd left all their stuff behind. I suspected Lee would be taking it back with him at the end of the year. I pulled the beater stick out of the messy trunk.

I held it in my right hand, hefting it like I was about to hit a bludger. I stopped. No more of that, either. I would never go flying again. Never play Quidditch. Never be Padfoot. Never fight Voldemort again. Never cast a spell or charm. Everything that I was had been taken from me.

No, that's not true. I stopped myself. Not quite everything. Remus was still there. Harry. They helped define me, and as long as they were there, I would never be completely lost. I looked back down at the stick in my hand. It had the look of something well loved. It had dents all over it, dents on top of dents, from hitting bludgers millions of times. I could almost feel the freedom and joy that it stood for. The escape from real life. The Game.

Some people, Remus included, had never truly understood why James and I had been obsessed with Quidditch. No matter how much we'd tried to explain it, he'd never gotten it. We'd finally given up. Everybody had some kind of release from reality. Remus had his, and we never understood his either. It was why he did extra work. He loved the structure. The learning. As long as he was learning, he was happy. He threw himself into school, because he had demons outside of it. James and I threw ourselves into Quidditch because of our demons. I took the most dangerous position I could, because I spent my time in a bubble at home. James, who could play either Chaser or Seeker, played recklessly and as fast as he could. Speed was something he didn't get. He took out his anger at the world by doing anything he could. He rotated between Chaser and Seeker by year.

I was a Beater. I liked the danger, but even more than that, it gave me an excuse to hurt people. To take out all my frustration on other people. I would have bet my broom that if it wasn't for Quidditch, and for Remus, I'd have ended up like any other Black. I was the impulsive one. I had been the one who always picked fights while on the field. I had been the one who always got in trouble. I believe I still held the detention record. I had been absolutely brutal with the bludger, and while it had made me a good player, it had also brought out the violence in me.

That was probably part of the reason I'd joined the Aurors right out of Hogwarts. I'd wanted the danger. The excitement. I wanted to hurt my enemies, even if it meant I might someday have to take down one of my family members. Maybe that was actually one of the main reasons I joined. So I could take down family members. Show just how not like them I was.

I sighed and put the beater stick back. That was not my time or place anymore. I was a Squib. Never to be truly a part of the magical world again. I'd best get used to it. I couldn't help but stare at the stick for a while longer. This was my goodbye after all. Finally, I turned away, toward the far side of the room. The mirror was there, like it always had been. I walked over and stood in front of it.

It suddenly occurred to me that I might not be able to make it work. Out of all the secret passageways in the castle, this was one of the ones where the most magic had to be used to make it open. We'd used it so much as seventh years that we'd only had to say the password by the end of the year, because it recognized us. All I could hope for was that the mirror would still know me.

"Golgathi's foot." I told it. The mirror stayed still. I got the distinct impression that it was studying me.

It finally mumbled, "You still refuse to cut your hair then, Mr. Padfoot?" and the glass rippled. I couldn't help but grin. I pressed my hand against the ripples, and the mirror parted to allow me through. That mirror still wanted me to cut my hair, after all these years. That had been the only mirror in the castle who didn't like my long hair. Go figure it had been the one in our seventh year dorm.

This particular passageway hadn't made it on the Marauder's Map. We made the Map in sixth year, and we'd only discovered this passageway after we took up residence in the seventh year dorm. Peter had been the one to notice it. We'd been in the Head Boy's tower, discussing 'business' with a certain Mr. Prongs, when Peter said that he thought he could see our dorm in the mirror in James' room.

We laughed, told him he was nutters, and went back to plotting. He finally brought it up again, and got Remus to check out the mirror. When Remus agreed that he seemed to be able to see the seventh year dorm too, I looked. It was really strange, our faces were superimposed over our room, but the room was really faint. You had to really be looking for it in order to see it.

It had taken us two weeks to figure out how to work the mirrors. After we had though, it made it much easier to sneak out of Gryffindor House. The Head Boy's rooms were located in a tower just behind the Great Hall. From there, we could go anywhere.

I walked slowly down the dusty staircase. It obviously hadn't been used after we graduated. It was still our secret place. I could almost hear the sounds of four pairs of feet dashing up and down the stairs. I could still hear our laughter. The torches still sprung to life as I got near them. Finally, the stairs ended. I was out of Gryffindor tower. The long thin passageway was full of old moth eaten tapestries. I could still remember the first time we'd gone through the tunnel and we'd stopped to stare at them. Remus had studied them for a long time, trying to figure out what they were for. We'd never been able to make much sense of them.

There was a small room about halfway between the dorm and the Head Boy's room, and we had used that as our hideout ever since we found it. I stopped walking when I reached it. The heavy door was closed, and the piece of parchment James and spelled to the door was still there.

Headquarters of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

I smiled, looking at the sign. That place had indeed been our headquarters. It was our sacred place during seventh year. It's where we plotted pranks, where we studied for our N.E.W.T.s, where we rehearsed our graduation speeches. Remus was Valedictorian, James gave one as the Quidditch team captain and Head Boy, and Dumbledore had asked Peter and I to give a speech claiming responsibility to any pranks that we had managed to escape blame from.

This was the place we hid on the day of graduation, trying to cling to the last scraps of our childhood. We had sat in that room in silence, wrapped up in our own thoughts. No more Hogwarts. Play time was over for us. Voldemort had started his campaign the year before, and James and I knew we were heading for the Auror Academy. It's where Remus shared the news that he had managed to get into University. It's where we pumped James up to propose to Lily during graduation. It's where I asked Remus to live with me.

We'd felt it our duty to leave our Maraudering paraphernalia here, for future generations of mischief-makers to find. We would have left the Marauder's Map there, but we'd lost it to Filch after he caught us coming back from Hogsmeade. We had left the invisibility cloak here, but after Dumbledore brought James the news that Voldemort was after him, he'd gone back here and pulled the cloak out. He'd given it to Dumbledore for safe keeping.

I was still standing outside the door. A shiver ran down my spine. Those were the darkest days of the war. I had been there when Dumbledore told James that Voldemort was after him. I was there when he later told James that the best course of action was a Fidelius Charm. I'd talked to James later and told him to use Peter. The perfect plan, I'd told him. I stared at the door in front of me.

When we had all sat in that room before graduation, telling each other our plans and fears about the future, had Peter already been working for Voldemort? I didn't want to think about it, but I couldn't help it. What if he'd been sitting there all that time, telling us about his fears, when really he was working for Him? I sighed. This was deeper contemplation then I had ever done in my life, except Azkaban. I shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind a bit. I had to keep going. I had to get to Remus' quarters before dinner ended and the halls were flooded with students again.

I continued on down the corridor. Finally the floor started to slope upwards, and I knew is getting close to the Head Boy's tower. The torches ran out about halfway up. That was new. I'd have to respell—no. Remus would have to respell them later. Boy, that was gonna take a lot of getting used to.

I reached the top of the stairs and peered out though the mirror. There was no one in the room. As soon as I touched the mirror, it rippled, and I went through it. The Head Boy this year was not a Gryffindor. There were black and yellow Quidditch robes hanging out of the open wardrobe.

I didn't bother to waste any time there. I hurried out of the tower and slunk along the hallways, toward a secret passage that lead to the Staff Room. From there, I knew a quick way to get to Remus' rooms. I didn't know if he'd be there or not. He wasn't formally teaching, so maybe he didn't eat in the Great Hall with everybody else. I slipped behind the tapestry concealing the passageway's door and jogged along the hall.

I got all the way to Remus' quarters with no difficulty. He was waiting for me, which was good because I didn't know the password to his rooms. He gave me a nervous smile as he let me in. It occurred to me that he wasn't sure what to say to me. Was I really that changed?

"Remus, am I really that different with out magic?" I couldn't help but ask. I needed reassurance, and I didn't know what I would do if he didn't want me as a Squib. We never would have met in the first place if it hadn't been for magic.

Remus gave me a heavy dose of his patented 'you're being an idiot, Siri-love,' look. He hugged me, and I melted into his arms, feeling close to tears. I never would have admitted it to anyone, except maybe Remus, but I was scared out of my mind. I had no idea what to do now that I couldn't do magic. I didn't want to loose Padfoot, and if I had, what would Remus do on the moons? He'd still be forced to just take Snape's potion and curl up alone all night.

"Sirius, I love you. I will always love you, no matter what happens. You know that." Remus whispered into my ear. I nodded, my face buried in his shoulder. "I don't think you're different without magic. You're still Sirius Orion Black, and you really can live up to your initials sometimes, like you always could."

I laughed a little. That was true. I pulled back enough to look at his face. His eyes were warm, only small streaks of silver shot through them. The moon was almost a whole month away, and Moony was quiet. His hair drifted into his eyes a little, like it always had. I reached up and brushed it back gently. I should have known that Remus would never leave me. Not for anything, except maybe if I'd really killed Lily and James, and that was perfectly understandable.

Remus smiled at me again. "Hungry?" he asked. I nodded.

"Remus, I have a question." It was after dinner (actually, probably after midnight, but I couldn't see a clock), and we were curled up on the couch.

"Mmm?" I'd woken him up. Darn. I hadn't meant to do that.

"Uh, if someone had been a, uh, an animagi, and then they were... er, stripped of their powers..." I didn't want to know. I so didn't want to know, so why was I asking? Remus looked up at me from where his head was resting on my chest. "Would... would they still be able to... to..." I waved my hand vaguely.

"To transform?" Remus finished for me. I winced. Nodded. He studied me for a moment. "You want the honest truth, Sirius?"

No. Absolutely not. "Yes."

Remus seemed to understand, but he answered the question anyway. "Sirius, it's never happened before as far as I know. Logic would say no, since the animagi transformation is magical. Then again, after that first time, there's no incantation to make it happen. No wand movement. The form isn't chosen, it's a part of you. Muggles can become werewolves, so why can't an animagus, robbed of his magic, not still transform?" he gave a very slight shrug. "But I just don't know."

Great. He didn't know either. Now I really didn't know what to do. Remus, as always, seemed to understand how I was feeling. He shifted in my arms, and I let him go. He turned around and hugged me, and I let him cradle me in his arms.

"It'll be ok, Sirius. We'll figure this out." He kissed me, and, while I doubted it would all be ok, I trusted him. I kissed him back.


End file.
